Tag Archives: reminiscing

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So far, I’m a fan!

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Instinctively, I thought.. well this could be fun to see just how many nudes have been in my inboxes. I have a few email accounts, but decided to start with my most commonly used one- my gmail.

I waited eagerly for the laughing and reminiscing. You can see who sent you what, what you sent to whom.

It arrived and I smiled. Those nudes were for him. Those nudes were from that couple. An ass. Some tits. Some ideas for shoots for Zivity perhaps.

And then I saw these pictures from about a year ago. The hot but psycho rockabilly military guy. He drove a classic car.. a Chevelle I believe but it was completely overrulled by the pure amount of fucking PSYCHO that this dude was.

Paranoia goes with smoking pot.. and is pretty laughable most of the time. But this guy freaked over nothing… like severely nothing.

One minute he was worshipping the ground I walked on.. couldn’t wait to be out and how nothing else was going to matter but the two of us when he did. Maybe war does something to you. Maybe it was something else. But seeing those images of this all American rockabilly dream boy gone mad gave me the shivers. It was something I honestly really could have done without.

I shut the window and wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.

Then this morning I was checking my Facebook.. and sure enough there he was standing by that black Chevelle.. a new friend request. He’s out of the military, local, and wanting to talk again. And although the idea of him being around to fix up the beast sounds rather tempting…

Once upon a time all i desired in the world was to be with you. I did everything I could just for those moments. I felt levity like I hadn’t ever felt. When I left, I left a piece of me. You had me from long ago.

Once upon a time I loved you more than anything.

Once upon a time I thought that we were untouchable. Sure we had our problems but…

Once upon a time I gave and gave and gave in every way I could. Emotionally. Financially. I didn’t have much then, but I bent over backwards to give you what I did. My motives were genuine and I didn’t expect a thing in return.

Once upon a time I’d move mountains if he asked me, or hell, if he even hinted that he wanted them moved. I’d find the way. I’ve always found a way.

Once upon a time I said goodbye. I made my peace about the situation. I tried to be friends with you. I really didn’t want it to end like it did.

Once upon a time you were a dickhead and you still are. A few months ago, after some further drama you pulled after an event, I let you go for the last time.

Once upon a time I thought that you were worthwhile. That maybe, just maybe this tug of war of hearts was something great. But, in the end I realized that everyone else was right when they told me that you didn’t deserve me.

Once upon a time I gave you a chance… all the tools shown. The only thing you needed to do was overcome yourself. You once told me that I was the most black and white girl you’d ever met and you had no idea where I came from. But I was yours. We understood each other and knew what buttons to press. We strengthened each other separately. Together we were unbreakable.

Once upon a time you chose the other path. We went our separate ways and I thought it was going to be alright.. I’d made my peace. I moved on. I thought you did too. So why do you still haunt me?

***

I was messaged last night about a recent stunt Big had pulled as I was waiting for my friend Mo to come over. to pick me up for last nights event. Mo was helping a friend move so we were running late. I had felt horrible earlier. Anxiety and chest pains rendered me stuck in bed. I almost cancelled even hanging out with Mo, but the grip came over for a few minutes and suddenly I felt better.

Combined with this stunt of my ex, we decided to just cut our losses and hang out and drink. Mo is very quickly becoming one of my very good friends. I feel so very fortunate for the people in my life.

I’ll admit it, I was a bit bummed. When a lover you’ve been off and on with and your former best friend join superforces, even if it’s just a friendship (and him trying to mindfuck me in my opinion) it gets to you- and you’d be lying if you said otherwise. I may or may not write the full story later. I haven’t decided yet.

***

Once upon a time, a girl once broken, once repaired, and once a cynic met the most amazing man. And he was everything conventional that little girls dream of, but not entirely conventional. And it wasn’t you.

***

I see the grip on a daily basis. He may work a ton, but he always takes the time out of his day and makes sure that he sees me. Because that’s what you do for the person you care about. This man.. this great man.. treats me in ways- though arguably simple and common sense to some- otherwise mythical to the plethora of lovers I’ve ever had.

Mo teased me about how whipped my boyfriend is. Yes, there I said it- I have a boyfriend, though currently not a monogamous relationship (on my side), he is my ready steady. And he’s likely better than yours.

I texted the grip telling him I was a bit bummed, and a little piece of the puzzle as to why. I told him that I really just wanted him to come (no he’s not living with me) and to just hold eachother. I felt like a bit of a baby. He’d stopped by a few hours prior to make sure I was alright. And now this.

Things with Big shouldn’t have phased me. How do you tell your current lover that everytime you try and toss this other guy back he keeps popping back up? He’s like the snake in a Medusa head. Why does he boomerang back but yet he couldn’t commit when he had me? I swear, and pardon me for saying this ladies, but he seems to have more of those “womanly” qualities about him that drive men mad than I do. Drama. Nothing more, nothing less. And what’s funny is that he has a girlfriend.

Mo and I drank vodka in the living room. We had a blast throwing down spirit and cares. Because that’s what good friends are for. Because that’s what good friends do.

I started texting some more. I wanted him here.

“Door unlocked. Take elevator and come in. “

He said he wasn’t getting off for a couple of hours. With the fires going on, it makes production a bit of a pain in the ass. I know he works his ass off and seeing a few tweets with total lack and consideration for other people involved pissed me off something fierce with their immaturity… he was stuck at work a long time yesterday.

Mo and I drank till the point of passing out. I awoke to this boy at the foot of my bed staring up at me. The grip had come by, without question, like I’d asked.

***

Once upon a time there was a girl who dealt with too much bullshit from a hanger-on man. She was disillusioned to thinking he could be the best thing that ever happened to her. And maybe to some extent she was both wrong as much as she was right.

Once upon a time this girl really didn’t know what she’d been missing out on out there.

Once upon a time she enbraced her faults and pieced herself back together. She learned that you never will meet the right person until you become that person. And amazing things suddenly started to happen. And, like a ripple effect, they continued to happen.

Because everything you ever need you already have. You just need to take a step back and look within. Outside of the box, yet inside of the box.

Once upon a time I didn’t regret a single moment of both pain and joy that you gave me. Because I grew from it. And ultimately, it prepared me for the person who would treat me like people dream to be treated.

What’s odd about this particular entry, is that in the midst of trying to think of what to write for a blog today (as there was an overabundance of inspiration), I decided that I would write about it later, and post another bit of prose from my past. This particular piece having been inspired by ****** from the previous entry came to mind near immediately.

****

It was not until I copied it from my notebook that I noticed the date.

One year ago today.

Coincidence?

I don’t believe in coincidence.

I believe that timing is a funny funny thing, especially when it’s about a relationship.

We grow..

we change..

we remain the same.

Brutal

and honest.

Those words echo in my cerebellum.

I remember why I adored him back then.

I remember why I’ve missed him so.

Admirable traits…

from someone whom in many ways is sick and should not be viewed admirable.

Ah what a twisted world we live in.

Reminiscent

Paramount

Permeating seducing pheramones

Once again transcribed into my reality.

I stare at a blank canvas…

hoping that you will enter again

hoping that this time

perhaps you will stay.

And while I know that I don’t need you.. your presence is requested at table 3.

Dabbler until recently… I never really had the love hate relationship non relationship that I seem to be having now. Coming home to seas of beer bottles on the counter and a cloud of smoke “Happy 420 mannnn!” Turning things off that were left on for unknown reasons. Getting more OCD than a person on meth, simply because you can’t stand living like a slob…

Except this time, this person does only not put out, but in reality, this is closer to marriage than I thought… no, scratch that- in my marriage I at least got to take his paycheck.

I kid. Ok, so maybe not completely… but hell, there weren’t many great things with married life.. that was definatly one of them.

However, though that horse is of a similiar color, it’s not what I’m getting at. Ah yes, I have joined the ranks of the roommate population.

Politics abound, we come full circle to yet another day in the ring. Or as I call it, the guilt trip tango.

I have never had a roommate before really. Once upon a time years ago when I lived back home in IL, I did have a minor touch and go roommate. It was a nightmare as well.

Here’s basically the summation with that one:

I was intending to move out, so I moved to this apartment with a girl from work. I brought some things over, and left them there a couple of weeks since I was moving in. Deanna decided that she wanted to try and charge me for half the rent when basically her sister never completely moved out of the room, so it was essentially shared. No, I’ll pass on that. When I came to there, the apartment was a mess. I cleaned everything until it shined (I did this with my current roommate as well, but we will get to that in a bit). She had a dog (I’m learning a pattern never to live with people with animals) who was not fixed and a suede couch… disgusting. In the middle of trying to be civil and just working it out, I got into a car accident and nearly broke both of my legs (funny story actually). The apt was on the 3rd floor, and my grandparents said they wanted me back home anyway because I lived too far away. I gave her the notice I was going to leave.. at which point, she took my things I had there- a laptop, a keyboard, some vintage clothes and furniture from the 50s, denied me access to them and sold or kept them. Coming to work and seeing her in my grandmothers vintage leopard peacoat pissed me off to no end. End roommate drama 1.

Then after that, I bounced around some more.. but never had the “pleasure” of a single or multiple roommates. About 5 years ago, another touch and go episode of roommate shannigans- my fiance and I moved in with a friend of mine before moving into a place of our own to start the picket fence life. He worked and insisted that I didn’t. She went to school and sat at home. It wasn’t bad at first.. but then again, it never is. Months later is when the real person comes around.

I wasn’t the housewife type. I’m an artist first and foremost. My grandmother is as well. Her house is a mess. However it’s amazing that when someone else is a slob in your enviornment, you suddenly become this superpower. Their mess is mess. Your mess is “organized clutter.” And it’s true… everytime my husband would move something in our apartments, I would freak. Because if it was in my space, even though it was messy, being put away, well.. that just didn’t do.

When I initially moved into the place I’m at now, I had simple yet difficult criteria to meet. I was looking for a female roommate with no drama and no drugs… in southern California. And preferrably, as I do not have the most conventional of lifestyles, they’d be a bit alternative, or at least understanding of an artist, appearing scatterbrained, not high maintenence but some maintence frequent dater. At first, everything appeared not only alright, but great. She cooked dinner, cleaned up after herself.. hell we even hung out and chatted all sex in the city like. That was short lived of course however.

Current affair: month 2. It was an important week for me last week, and my new roommate knew that. I asked if she could please make sure this place was perfection. I was to have 2 very important guests for the week. My kids- 2 and 3, were going to visit. I had not been able to see them for a year prior to this. (My ex is a douchebag) Granted, my roommate is in her 20s and our apt is not completely childproofed… but a little common sense really does go a long way.

Weeks go by. I gave her plenty of notice this was going to happen. She operated as normal- not seeming to give a shit about anything. I have been cleaning up after her since I’ve been here. It started off small.. the fridge, doing dishes here and there.. the trash being taken out.. but it never seemed to end. I washed dishes a few times and use the dishwasher basically for airdrying. She puts her dirty dishes over my clean ones; thereby making me have to wash them again as well as hers. I took meat out this week to thaw, so I could cook when the kids napped.. go to cook and she had thrown it away.

It’s a constant stream of annoyances and complete lack of understanding for another person. I’m not saying that I expect it to be clean all the time… but for chrissakes, you are an adult, clean up after yourself in a timely manner.. and by timely I don’t mean.. weeks.

When my ex came by I had been cleaning up after the roommate and scrubbing floors all night. I looked like Cinderhella. I’m sure it made him smile to an extent.. though I never did that when I was married to him… not motivational at all. In any event, the house sparkled, and though I was exhausted, I was ready for my visit.

There have been many quirks throughout the entire process of this roommate situation. I have my own personal ones, but since this is my blog, I get to describe hers in great detail, and leave mine to the vague abyss. Neener neener neener nana nana boo boo. Seriously though, to be fair, my quirks have nothing to do with being disrespectful to her in any way.

She has cats- whom she is allergic. My bathroom is off the hallway, and is a shared one. It is bigger, and therefore, the litterbox ends up in there. Fine. But of course, it’s not properly cleaned up… and since my bathroom only has a tub, I frequently use hers between that and the cat smell.

She has other animals in her bedroom though. She lets them out of their cages and.. well.. it’s not clean in there. It’s not my space, and it doesn’t bother me entirely… with exception to when I need to use the shower. These animals also need the apt to be a certain temperature… so the a/c is frequently on like an icebox. I turn on the heat to compensate.. you get the idea. I’ve been sick, and I honestly think her pets are a major contribution to it.

Wow this has sounded like a bitch post.. I haven’t told all of it, but let’s get closer to the point. The night before the visit, I texted her to ask her if she was going to do her dishes and she (a not religious person at all) sent me a response that she was going to an annointing of the sick…

great guilt trip line. true? untrue… doesn’t matter. Because if I don’t accept it, I’m an asshole. I don’t want drama at all. I just want people to take care of their own messes. She doesn’t pay me to be her maid, and quite frankly, I had to clean up after her more than my kids.

The last 2 days before they left, I admittedly slacked. I left a few dishes on the counter and the garbage could have been taken out. I had a personal fiasco I had to deal with, so I figured I would take care of it on Monday or Tuesday when things were back to normal.

I’m not anti-social, but for those people that I really don’t have much of an interest in knowing more, I go in hermit mode. I keep to myself and do my own thing. I don’t like to talk about much because when you open your mouth, it leaves it open to drama- and I wanted this new place to be as drama free as possible. I wasn’t expecting perfection, but I was expecting a bit more here… or well.. hoping that is.

Today she texts me that I need to do the dishes and take out the garbage. This is someone that never does these things… and immediately, snap your fingers because she does her dishes once… or so she acted like. (Her dirty dishes were in the diswasher-I still had to clean them because they were in my way of course).

I wanted her to leave during the day.. I’d felt sick earlier so I wanted the extra day to recover from the week and recoop, and to clean the house. Then lectures?

I wanted to tell her it was bs. I wanted to note the irony. Instead, I wrote drafts and bit my lip… yet again, the control war… I could pull the card and wait till she does it… try subtle hints. But like the broken glass she left on the counter for days when the kids were here, I will end up cleaning it up everytime…

because I don’t want the drama.

Aka: I am a sucker.

I have a conscious for sale. Anyone want it? For some reason, though I know she deserves it, I can’t seem to bring myself to be a bitch. How do I get her to do her own shit? This is out of line. I think I’ll make a seesmic… but likely I’ll just force myself to pass out and prepare for the next daily grind.. damn insomnia. Bah.